


Memoirs of a Quartermaster

by Venstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Kimono, M/M, Snark, Snow, i hope you cry, literature makeover, retelling of Q's backstory, tender moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: You can wish for a different beginning for your ending, but sometimes you’re not allowed that luxury.  In Japan, a pair of siblings are sold by their fisherman father.  One to a geisha house (okiya) and the other one, to a brothel. Along the years of training and failure, one sibling escapes from the brothel where they lived and the other is left alone, becoming indebted to their okiya. However, years later, he earns the opportunity to become a taikomoshi apprentice, with the help and support of a successful ally.  While still a young man, he falls in love with The Commander, at a chance meeting.  Years pass before they meet each other again...





	1. The Village Cat and Dog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honeyf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyf/gifts).



> \--this is my second story for the 00QRBB and I was fortunate to blink in wonder at this beautiful piece of art, with kimono, snow and cherry blossoms. originally, the artist and one of my betas well tell you, this story began in such a very different way. I wasn't sure about what I was doing, It felt too close to the tone of story I had just finished, and one morning, I woke up and immediately started on THIS.  
> \-- thank you co-conspirator A who fortunately knew what I was trying to do and the grammar wielding thebookworm214. without these two ladies, this would not have been possible.  
> \--this is a tribute to a piece of literature I adore. I have actually researched geisha and taikomochi BUT probably 98% of what's in here is inaccurate and for story purposes only.  
> \--feel free to leave a comment or kudos, i don't bite.

The snow fell quietly around us as we walked, a soft contradiction to the glare of my mobile. Modern technology in an ancient landscape: my life was full of these types of contradictions. If you saw me, your first thought might be “Yes, you are from the U.K!” But I’m not. I’m not even from Kyoto, although that is where I spent most of my life. If I spoke the name of my village, you would not even know it! I was born and raised in Shugenoku; do not bother yourself with trying to remember the name. It is a tiny fishing village on a small Island just off the coast of Japan. It still exists, and I hear it is unchanged, a place where you are still twisted and bent backwards by the strong sea winds, trying to carve out a living. I wish to ignore it in a moment. The memories there are short, cold, unfriendly and were before I became… what I was and am now.

Now my boots were heavy upon my feet, already gathering snow in the treads. I was made even more cumbersome while walking in the snow with my robes fluttering around. It had been awhile since I had worn kimono. I was fortunate to remember the grace that came from struggling to learn how to wear it properly. My partner was not so lucky; he required my arm to steady himself which is why you may see a few typos as I write this. It was how we met though, but how we met is ever so much more complicated than anyone else’s meet and greet.

That tiny village, it was where I met a man who would change my life forever, and meeting him was the best and worst moment of my life. How could that be? Is it one or the other? Meeting Mr. A, who I shall only call Mr. A, because I do not wish him ill or harm, he meant well. It was a meeting I can never forget, no matter how much I want to. He found me exceedingly fascinating, and I found his interest fascinating as well. I did not know what that interest meant for me and for my family.

You can wish for a different beginning for your ending, but I was not allowed that luxury. My family was small, and I thought we were happy; children will often make that mistake, adults know better. My father used to watch my mother, his face filled with a sort of sadness, lines digging further and further into his face. He would smile for us, the sadness was really only for Mother. She looked at us with both a seriousness and sadness, rarely smiling for us or Father. My mother and I shared the same eyes, and many in our village would comment on this.

“So alike, so alike! So much cat in your person,” the elderly ladies would call out. “Do not steal our fish!”

As if I wanted their day old fish, caught by their husbands and not kept iced properly! My elder sister would catch me in the bathroom mirror, staring at my own reflection.

“What are you doing?” she would ask.

“Looking for the sadness,” I would tell her. “Mother has it; perhaps I do to.”

My sister, who had the broad face of our Father, would call me silly and pull me away from the study of my expression, tugging me by the end of my sleeve. “Sadness isn't catching.”

I disagreed. Father had caught it. Sometimes I would catch Mother staring out at the sea, like I did, but that did not make her happy either. I loved the sea that our village was built against, it was shoved together in such a stuttering, broken way, permanently bent at its knees. I used to call it the Bowing Village, sure that it was paying its respect to its master, the sea. My sister and I would spend hours on the beach in broken down boats, pretending we were pirates or brave fisherman. Sometimes we would haggle over the price of fish as she played the rich village doctor and I the fisherman’s wife. She would not buy it for one more yen than what she thought it was worth, and I would not sell it for one yen less than what I thought it was worth!

“You cheapen my life!” I cried.

“You cheapen my intelligence. I know how much fish costs! I’m a Doctor!” She stuck her tongue out at me. We laughed and laughed. Oh, our foolishness.

One day, the sadness overcame our Mother. It took her eyes. It took her everything. The real village doctor came, and he spoke with Father, quiet words that we were not meant to hear. He called it a wasting illness, and there was nothing that could have been done. Father must think of us now. Father was left with us, and we were left with his sadness. He remained still and worried. He began to look at us as Mother had, his face became nothing but weathered line upon weathered line. My sister and I knew not what to do, but we tried, as children might, to pick up the pieces and fill the holes. We shared the chores Mother once did, repairing the holes in Father’s net, fetching water from the wells, going to market to buy real fish when Father could not find the energy to stir himself to catch our dinner. How does one eat when they can’t even catch what is in front of them?

We had to put our pretend fish and boats away. We had to grow up to take care of Father. One day, Mr. A, the wealthiest man on our island, who owned the ferry boats, came into the village and wandered through the market. He spotted my sister and myself struggling with our buckets at the well. We were wet, dirty, and wearing our patched and repatched peasant clothes. We matched the grey of the sky, the weathered boards of the village and the mud on the ground. Mr. A, however, wore clean, crisp kimono and kimono trousers, making him look like the pictures in the temples of the proud samurai. Perhaps I stared too long, and perhaps he stared at me for too long. I moved to stand behind my sister as I realized my impudence. Mr. A soon approached where my sister stood at the well, her arms swelling from pulling the rope with the heavy bucket. Maiko had always been the strongest of the two of us. Where I became tongue tied and shy with new people, my sister would grow a dragon's tongue.

“What do you want?” she asked Mr. A “We are very busy.” Maiko dumped the bucket into our own before flinging it back into the well. “Very busy, too busy for the likes of you.”

Mr. A asked who we belonged to. Maiko told him it must be no one he knew since she didn't know him. I was tugging on her sleeve to try and quiet her, but she ignored me and backhanded me into the mud. I would have cried, but she stuck her tongue out at me and Mr. A, who was stranger to us, knelt to offer his hand to help me up.

“You have the eyes of a cat,” he said, smiling at me. “I’ve seen these eyes before.” He tilted my chin up and to the side.

My sister pushed him away and told me to get my lazy self off the ground. I pushed myself out of the mud and could only brush the mud further into my clothes. I was now a walking, talking, muddy child. I swiped a hand across my face, to remove my tears and what must be snot coming out of my nose. I didn’t know the mud had smeared across it until Maiko told me to wash my face and make myself presentable, show honor to our family.

“You are Sarah’s child,” Mr. A said. “I remember when she came over on the ferry with those eyes, a foreigner's eyes. Give my greetings to your Mother.”

“She’s dead,” said Maiko. She grabbed my hand and yanked me away from Mr. A’s presence. I glanced back once to see him staring thoughtfully after us. If I’d have known now what I did then, I would have run away that night, taking Maiko with me.

Mr. A came to visit Father; my sister sat in her sullen silence, her lips compressed and pursed as if she were an oyster guarding her pearl. You would not get anything out of her. I sat in silence that was normal for my nature. Cats are one to study things before acting. The men talked quietly to each other. I saw Father shake his head a few times before he nodded eventually, his shoulders sagging. Father and Mr. A must have agreed on something; we were not told what, except that we were to dress to accompany Mr. A to his home. Maiko and I gave each other a look, and out of respect for our elders, did as we were bid. We washed our faces, hands and feet and each put on our best kimono, which was not much: brown on brown, like the mud of the village.

I wish we had not done as we were told, but there was nothing we could have done, except to cause a scene that would have shamed our Father. Mr. A brought us to this old woman who was heavy and sat as if rooted to the earth. We wouldn’t have been able to move her if possible. She slurped oysters from their shells as Mr. A introduced us before leaving us with her and her pile of cast off shells.

“I will come back for you after she has seen to you and your sister first,” Mr. A said before leaving us confused.

Mrs. Oyster slurped once more before smearing her face with her hands and then across the cotton of her kimono. She snapped her fingers and motioned us to her. “Your names.”

Maiko was still in her stubborn, sullen silence. I did not think Father would approve of us dishonoring his name. I stuttered out Maiko’s name and then my own. Mrs. Oyster snapped her fingers and beckoned us one more time. We went, or more like I went dutifully and tugged Maiko after me. We stood before Mrs. Oyster who took our faces and bodies, turning them this way and that. She stopped at me, turning my face to the light, and I remember squinting.

“You’re a clever one aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes, very pretty eyes. The eyes of a cat. Ever watchful, ever sharp. A fine figure, nine-years-old, lovely horoscope, good fortune.” Mrs. Oyster did not have anything nice to say to Maiko, too old at fifteen years, too stupid, bad horoscope, nothing but trouble would follow and for someone with such a mulish nature. Their life would drag in the mud.

I exchanged a worried look with Maiko, but she merely shrugged. What was one old woman to her? Maiko gave a small shriek as Mrs. Oyster inspected her further. My own eyes widened in surprise. I stepped to defend my sister, but Mrs. Oyster merely turned her attention to me. She ran her hands up and down my body, like she had my sister, I looked through the wall, trying to ignore her. Mrs. Oyster ignored us as my sister and I tried to comfort each other with our nearness. Mr. A. returned and looked expectantly at the heavy, old woman.

She mumbled to him, “Everything is in one piece. That one has pretty eyes, pretty figure, smart like a cat. That one,” She nodded to Maiko, “Not as fortunate, but she is intact.”

Mr. A pressed a coin into her fat, waiting hands, and she smiled coquettishly up at him.

“It will be a time before they are worthy of your company, A-san,” she giggled; the horrid, fat old crone, giggled at Mr. A. He merely accepted it as his due and nodded, returning her smile with a small one of his own.

“Come,” he said, as if we were dogs. He, too, snapped his fingers.

Maiko grabbed my sleeve and we followed along. We were both too shocked and too determined to leave Mrs Oyster’s presence. Mr. A did not take us to his home but put us in his long black car and drove us into town, to the port. My first ride in a car: I was enchanted. I wanted to understand how it worked. Mr. A could only answer a small portion of my questions. My sister hit me in the ribs until I was silenced. Our journey was short, and as the row of docks soon came into view, Maiko and I looked at each other; the port was for fishing vessels and the ferry. Why we had come this direction, we did not know, for Mr. A lived on the island, as did we. The car stopped and Mr. A got out, motioning us to do the same. The various seacraft were tied to their docks, riding up and down, up and down as if nodding their heads to say hello. Mr. A led us to the ferry to the mainland that was docked and preparing to leave.

Mr. A greeted a man waiting in front of the ferry and introduced him as Mr. B. He was short and stocky, with a round face and a round body wrapped in a dark, pinstripe kimono, more elegant than anything I had ever seen. I know my eyes widened because his widened as well once he saw me. My face was once more trapped in someone else’s hands and turned for their pleasure. I narrowed my eyes, but it did not seem to deter Mr. B one bit, in fact he laughed.

“You seem to have brought me the village cat, Mr. A.” Mr. B looked to my sister, “and the village dog.” At Mr. B’s assessment of Maiko, I pulled my face from his hands and moved to stand back with her, glaring at the two gentlemen.

“And they are now in your care, Mr. B. Children, good journey.” Mr. A gave a small nod and walked away, the tails of his own smooth, grey kimono swishing gently against his feet.

I could say nothing at the leaving of Mr. A; my mouth merely opened and closed like a fish dying and gasping for air. Maiko’s mouth hung open, much like the village dog she had been compared to, before we were both grasped by the backs of our robes and pushed and pulled to the ferry. With cries of terror and gasps of shock, my sister and I rode the slow moving ferry. Having lived in the bowing village by the sea, we had never actually been on the water. It threw us up and down, and our legs were not made to be rocked back and forth. We kneeled in a pitifully small pile of brown robes, miserable, hugging each other and emptying our stomachs in turn at the passing of each wave. Mr. B merely walked a few steps away and stood with his face turned towards the mainland.

###

My focus on my mobile must have drawn my partner’s attention; he wobbled once more and stumbled over his geta before he bent his slightly taller frame to lean down and capture my own gaze. Blue greeted me, a blue the color of the sea that had surrounded my island. He had a lot of water in his personality, able to flow and adapt. My own were green; there was nothing but cat in my personality. He smiled as I narrowed my eyes at him, his own crinkled at the edges, like the sand upon the shore, wrinkling as the sea retreated. We shouldn’t be compatible, our personalities were a match of ill fortune, but we got along… more than along. I would not be where I was if it wasn’t for him, and he would not be where he was in his long life without me. Two survivors. Life gives us memories we wish we could forget. If I hadn’t met Mr. A, I wouldn’t be where I am or with the person walking next to me.

“What are you doing, Q?” Blue eyes smiled at me once more.

“Remembering things, before I forget.” I reached up to brush the snow from his shoulder. The hat he wore protected his face, but his shoulders, broad under his kimono, had caught the snow and held it. I should have brought an umbrella, but one does forget occasionally, I am, after all, no longer a current Taikomochi. I can only imagine the frowns my brothers would have for me if they knew I had not thought of James’s comfort first. I can, however, tell you how much James would have frowned to see me holding an umbrella above his head for his comfort first.

“Don’t you have awhile before your memory fully leaves you?” He asks, his hand brushing the snow out of my own dark, unruly hair. I think this is why he makes me forget his comfort, because it gives him reasons to see to his own comfort in small touches to my person.

“Yes, James, much more than you do.” It is a game we play well, this banter. The sea chasing the cat and the cat stalking the sea. James gave me a quick pinch to my arse, through the layers of my kimono, in retaliation. “Ow, stop that.”

“What are you remembering?” James asks, his lips pressed close to my ear, brushing, nearly kissing the tip, I can feel him smile as the tell tale flush fills my face at his familiar handling of my person.

“My life before MI6.” I turn my head, the brim of his hat protecting my glasses from the snow, my lips only millimeters from his.

“Before me?” he asks, his breath a soft brush against my own lips, and it’s as if we have kissed, without ever kissing.

“There are things in life that aren’t you, you arrogant peacock,” I whisper back, sharp and biting; his eyes light up with the joy that only I can put there.

“Like you.” It’s a statement, not a question. He knows how important I am to him, to his work, but mostly to him.

“Like me,” I repeat, our words quiet in the snow, the sound absorbed. We are quiet in this foreign land that’s home to me, but still foreign, just like he is still as foreign to me as he first was.

“Like us.” He seals our quiet words with a kiss.


	2. A New Home

The ferry ride was horrendous, and we were not given much time, Maiko and I, to find our land legs once we landed. Mr. B bundled us off to a noisy train platform and onto a train bound for somewhere, he wouldn’t say. We sat again, ill and hungry, as the train rocked side to side on its journey. As excited as I was to be on a train, my stomach did not enjoy it as much. Mr. B must have had a cast iron stomach; nothing seemed to bother him, and he ate his lunch which he had carried with him in a cloth sack. He pulled it from inside his sleeve, where it had been tucked away out of site, and proceeded to shove the rice balls in his face.

Maiko stared hungrily up at him. I glanced occasionally, but it would do me no good to long for what wasn’t mine. Maiko had no concerns about this and continued to watch Mr. B. When a piece of his rice fell and went rolling, she went for it, like the dog Mrs. Oyster had called her. Her back was turned to Mr. B, but I saw the way he looked at her with disgust, he turned his eyes to me, but I did not move to join her. My throat tightened with a swallow. Maiko turned to me, her finger pushing the wad of rice into the pocket of her cheek; she gave me a triumphant smile and sat back down. We waited and waited as the landscape flashed by in a queasy blur.

The train came to a stop at what seemed like the umpteenth station, Mr. B stood up quickly and pulled at our shoulders, his fingers digging into the soft parts near my collarbone. He steered us out of the train, and I found myself standing on a large platform with what seemed like people upon people stacked, jostling, a riot of colors as kimonos of every shape and color passed us. Smells that I had not experienced filled my nose, and I almost became sick again to my shame on the platform, but I held it as Mr. B pushed us through the crowd, where he haggled with the driver of a car for the coin it would cost to deliver us to our destination. We were shoved into the backseat, pressed against Mr. B. Building upon building passed us by, foreign to us both. Maiko and I stared out our windows, her mouth hanging open. I pressed my forehead against the window, watching the people, the cars, the buildings, the lights. It was a new world. I heard Maiko begin to speak.

“Where are we? Where are we going? When will we go back home?”

Mr. B looked down at Maiko and did not answer her questions. After a few moments, I spoke up. “Would you please tell us where we are going?” My voice was soft, I wasn’t sure if he heard me at first.

“To your new home.”

It was the last he would speak to me proper that day.

“We have a home!” Maiko said from his other side. Mr. B stilled and I drew a breath, but Maiko must not have had an understanding of the storm in his body. “We have a home. Take us back!”

Mr. B lashed out and struck her, and she glared in silence at him for that blow. Mr. B turned to me, but I bit down hard on my lip to keep from making any noise; I tasted blood. The car came to a stop in front of a row of houses. They were all connected, leaning on each other for support, family that had seen better days. The door fronts were colorful, but faded now, makeup washing away. The driver opened the door, and Mr. B all but kicked me out of the car. Maiko moved to follow, but Mr. B shoved her back in and slammed the door in her face.

I would have gone back to her, but Mr. B pulled me around until I was standing in front of a house with a door painted orange and notes of good luck and fortune plastered along it’s wooden front. Elegantly clad women passed in front of us; I admired their fluttering kimono, mouth ajar at their fineness, and I envied them for a moment. Soon I would learn that they were just common maids rushing back and forth in an endless set of errands. Mr. B knocked on the door. A maid let us in; she knelt out of the way, and I was pulled into the house. I looked back to Maiko, her face pressed against the glass. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she tapped the glass to point. I turned and caught sight of what had captured her attention.

A woman, with her face painted pale as the moon, lips a delicate red, hair pulled back into a complicated upswept hairdo with mother of pearl combs, stood in the doorway. She was slender and willowy, like a branch, like a bit of wind could have blown her away. This was my first meeting with one of the most well known, successful geishas of Gion,:Chinatsu. I did not know that at the time. All I knew was that I had never seen a creature as beautiful as she was, wearing riches that I had never seen in one place. I lost my manners and stared at her from the tips of her elegantly clad feet to the top of her head. My eyes locked onto hers, and she sneered at Mr. B and myself. Her loveliness vanished in that moment. She refused to move and Mr. B refused to move. He thought Chinatsu should be on her way, and she thought she would, if only he would be a dear and move the trash from her feet. She must have meant me. Soon, an Old Woman finally came rushing into the entryway and admonished the woman for being late for her appointment.

“I would not be this late if you were not shirking your duties, Old Woman.”

The Old Woman clicked her tongue at the words before she sparked a flint across Chinatsu’s back which sparked her movements, and she moved out onto the street, the ends of her kimono decorated with silver leaves and golden trees flashed around her ankles.

The Old Woman’s attention turned to me as Mr. B pushed me into the entry of the house and said that this was my new home. He turned and got back into the car with Maiko until all that was left of them was an empty space where the car had been, taking the rest of my family and life away. I now had nothing. I fell to the ground and wept.

The Old Woman took pity on me and tried to console me. She pulled a handkerchief from somewhere on her person and waved it in front of me. When I didn’t take it, she took my face in her own hands and wiped it for me. I would never see such kindness again from her. This was it. Had I known, I might have cherished it, but I could not at the time. She swiped the rough cotton swiftly and stopped once she got a good look at my face.

“My, my, those eyes. The Mistress will be pleased and perhaps you will prove me wrong and bring honor and coin to this poor okiya. Come.” The Old Woman pulled me along behind her. My brain was still stuck on the unfamiliar term “okiya.”

“What is an okiya, if you please?” I asked her. She turned sharply to look at me. “Ma’am,” I finished my sentence to be more respectful.

“It is a place where geisha live and train.”

“But, women are geisha! Did you mean to keep my sister?” I did not understand the Old Woman. I could not be a geisha.

The Old Woman cackled. “No, we did not want that one.”

I yanked my hand from hers. “I am a boy. I can not be geisha!” I was horrified that they had made a mistake and Maiko was meant for this place. “Maiko is the girl, I am a boy. You have mistaken us!”

This time the Old Woman laughed in my face. “Stupid boy. I hope you stay a boy. We paid a lot for one as pretty as you. I knew it was odd, taking in a boy. We have enough time dealing with Chinatsu-san to take on the duties of training a boy No, stupid boy, you are to be taikomochi, the male equivalent of a geisha, but if you are stupid and show that you are not worthy to be taikomochi, then maybe we will turn you into geisha after all, hmm!”

At the Old Woman’s threat, I bit my lip again. I did not know enough to protest. I just knew I was not meant to be a geisha. I knew nothing about being a taikomochi. Deciding silence was the best policy, I let the Old Woman show me around the okiya. She led me to the kitchen first where I was made to strip and wash. There was another maid there, my age, and when the Old Woman walked out, she hissed at me. I narrowed my eyes at her and tightened my lips as I tried to hide my nakedness. She only smiled at me and waved. I was confused now.

“Where did you come from!” She spoke to me from where she knelt, scrubbing the floor.

“Shugenoku.” When the skin between her brow furrowed like waves, I felt she must not be familiar. “Off the coast, a fishing village.” I do not know why that statement made her smile, until she spoke again.

“If they let cats near a fishing village, it is a strange place indeed.” She laughed even more as I drew back. She splashed some of her bucket water on me and my lip curled. This only encouraged more of her foolish laughter. “Cat eyes. You’ll keep the mice away from the kimono. I am so glad that there is another person to help around here. Taking care of an okiya is hard work!”

The Old Woman came back with a handful of simple, rough, grey cotton. She helped me to dress, and when I was covered once more, ran a comb through my unfortunate mop of unruly hair or she tried to. She pulled so hard, my eyes watered and I thought there must be no hair left, but there was. The Old Woman kept frowning at it.

“I will take you to meet the Mistress of the okiya and Master. They will decide whether or not to keep you, so make sure they like you and want to keep you.”

“How do I do that?”

“Manners.”

“What if they don’t keep me?” My voice trembled a little, and the Old Woman took pity on me.

“You should hope they keep you for it is better if they do. Keep your manners, and do not speak. Bow low, stay quiet, and for heaven’s sake, let me do the talking.”

The Old Woman led me through the warren of the okiya until we came to the open courtyard, I was led out into the middle where a woman, not much older than the Old Woman, was kneeling, smoking on a pipe, her robes of navy and green, her hair simply wound in a chignon in the back. I lowered my eyes as she looked up, my head still bowed. Next to her I had caught a glimpse of a very old man. I was not sure what their relationship was. It was later explained to me that he had bought out the Mistress’ old okiya partner and had once been a taikomochi, much desired in his time. He was the reason they had purchased a boy now.

As we approached them, the clouds parted and the sun broke through; the courtyard lit up with warmth and so did the top of my head. I had not felt the sun since we had been removed from our village, and I looked up to catch it, before I lost it again. The Old Woman pushed on my shoulder, signalling me to kneel or behave, I’m not sure, but I knelt, and in doing so, my eyes drifted down, and I caught the gaze of the Master. I lowered my eyes quickly and folded myself down upon the ground. I heard a low chuckle.

“We have a cat, in our presence,” the Master said. The Mistress said nothing, so the Old Woman filled the silence.

“Yes, yes. Green eyes, dark brown hair, nine-years-old, a good figure, good bones.”

“We don’t need cats. We have plenty of the wild beasts roaming around,” the Mistress said, spitting onto the ground. I kept quiet.

“Yes, yes. But they’re wild, as you say, this one is house trained and can be trained further.”

“He’ll keep the mice away from the kimono, with so much cat in his personality, don’t you think?” the Master asked.

The Mistress sighed as if the Master had made a point, but she wouldn’t agree on it.

“Bring him here,” the Master said.

The Old Woman pinched my shoulder and I rose; she shuffled me forward until I was directly in front of the Master. She pushed on my shoulder, and I knelt once more. I was no more than a ball to them. Up and down, up and down.

“Come, come,” the Master said. “I’ve seen you bow already, and that needs work. Let’s look at the rest of you and decide what else needs work. Up, up.” I felt the Old Woman nudge me with her foot and I lifted my head up until I was looking at the Master’s hands. They came up to frame my face. Paper thin and wrinkled, they were dry and stained from tobacco. He turned my face this way and that. “Yes, yes. I think we can do something with you.”

I looked at him directly, and he must have seen the hope or curiosity spring forward, for he smiled. “I think we can do something with you, but you will have to try, train and show us that we have not wasted out time and money.”

“How old did you say?” the Mistress asked.

“Nine-years-old,” the Old Woman said, “Did you see his eyes? Very pretty.”

The Mistress sighed. “There are already too many pretty girls around.”

“But a boy, a pretty boy with pretty eyes,” the Old Woman said, turning me towards the Mistress.

“I don’t need another pretty thing.”

“He’s very smart and pliable. You can tell by the ears. His nature is nothing but curiosity, and he will take to learning, like a fish to the sea,” the Old Woman said. I was not sure if I was hoping they’d keep me or not. “What do you think Master?”

“You know how you hate damage to the kimono, and we have had an influx of mice lately.”

This caused the Mistress to sneer. “Then we will task him to catch the rats if he fails.”

The Master nodded to the Old Woman; it seems as if something had been decided and I was again pinched on the shoulder to move me away.

When we were out of hearing, the Old Woman muttered harshly, “They have decided to keep you. I will give you to our kitchen girl. She will show you around the rest of the okiya. I have more to do than play babysitter to the likes of you.” She shoved me into the kitchen and then waved to the girl, who had moved on from scrubbing the floor and was now pouring sugar into a container. Her kimono and face were dusted with it. In that moment I nicknamed her “Sugar.” Little did I know, it would stay with her throughout her life and beyond these okiya walls. Her nature was not as sweet as her accidental name. I should have chosen better had I known, but this is a story of me not knowing anything and learning what I didn’t know.

Sugar led me around, talking and talking and talking. I made note of the rooms and layout, hoping that I would be able to find my way around. I must find Maiko; there had been a mistake. Father would not have allowed us to be separated like this. Mr. A and Mr. B had tricked him. At first opportunity, I would find my sister and we would leave this place.

###

“Q?” James voice filled my ears again. I looked up at him and he looked with some concern down at me. “You’ve stopped walking.”

I looked around, and so I had. We were further along on our path than we had been a few minutes ago. My silence and stillness must have drawn his attention once more.

“Did you want to walk this way? I thought you did.” He looked at me with concern. My hands had gripped my phone tight; he was not touching me this time, his own hands stuck within the sleeves of his kimono.

“I did, I do.” But I stayed still. This land, always this land held too many memories. His hands came out of his sleeves and he pressed them against mine, against my mobile which had gone dark.

“Was it that bad?” he asked me. He never asked me, and we never talked about it. I only remember him, our meeting, when I choose to. Today I am choosing to remember other things.

“No, it was not pleasant, but it is nothing like what you went through.”

“Q. We can’t compare our lives. We are different and our… backgrounds are different. You’ve told me so little about yours. I only know where our story starts.” James’s hands came up and removed my glasses, reducing him to a blur of yellows and blues against the snow.

“I lost my family too.” My voice came out soft and harsh against the noise absorbing snow. My hands shook. “I lost my family too.” His arms wrapped around me, and I found a quantum of solace within his embrace.

“I’m sorry. Death is hard.”

I shook my head, “I know my Mother died, but I lost track of my Father and my elder sister. I lost them. I’ve tried to track them, but they’re gone, disappeared. I’m not even sure if I should know where they are, because if I know where they are…” My voice trailed off. My status as the Quartermaster of MI6 would put them in danger, simply put.

“It’s still a loss, no matter how you look at it, Q.”

“I know.”

“Come on, we can either go forwards or go back, your choice,” James said to me, but by going forward, I would be going back, and he didn’t understand that. The wind picked up and brushed our kimono against our legs. Even the wind was trying to tell me what to do, go forward.

“It would appear I have to do both,” I said. He removed his arms from me and gave my glasses a good cleaning before putting them back on my nose. When he did, he came back into stark relief, all the crisp edges of his jawline, the way his ears stood out, slightly bent under the weight of the hat he wore. I loved those ears. Without those, he would be perfect and I would hate him.


	3. Hideaki

Trying to find my sister in the middle of Gion was a disaster that created a living nightmare and ended the long and tortuous two years of training that I had undertaken to learn to be a taikomoshi. All the hard work that I had suffered was taken away by the foolish decision of a foolish little boy who wouldn’t stop looking backwards. Chinatsu had tricked me, in her cruel fashion. She led me to believe my sister was waiting for me. She slipped me a piece of paper and said that she would do this favor for me, so long as I left the okiya and never came back. I crushed it to me and memorized the address before eating it to hide the evidence.

It was a complete disaster. I got lost through the winding streets, and I had to keep asking for directions. Eventually I found myself on a dark, narrow, unfriendly street, its doorways lined with red paper and lights. I found the house number and asked to speak to Maiko. The servant who opened the door shoved me backwards.

“Too young, too young!” she cried at me before slamming the door in my face. I did not understand. I knocked again and the door opened to the face of the servant again.

“I said you are too young. Come back when you have whiskers on your face!”

I pressed my hand against the door and blurted out, “Maiko is my sister. I wish to speak to her.” Unfortunately, I had caused a commotion at this house and the proprietor of the establishment appeared.

“What’s this, what’s this?” she said. “Too young, shoo!”

“Maiko is my sister, can I see her, please?”

“Sister!” the proprietor cried. “It looks like we made the wrong purchase, huh? This one is very pretty; he would pull in more business than that sister of his, wouldn’t he?” She elbowed the servant next to her.

“I belong elsewhere,” I stammered. “Please, Maiko.”

“He begs so pretty,” the proprietor said, “You belong here now. You ran away and now you’ll stay.”

“No!” I panicked. I tugged on my arm.

“Let him go!” Maiko appeared, stumbling out of one of the rooms behind the women in the doorway. “Let him go.” She grabbed me and pulled me out of the doorway, away from the building.She was half dressed, her breast falling out of the opened front of her cheap, red kimono. It wasn’t even real silk. I stared at the horrid thing for some time.

“Maiko, what is… what?”

She got in my face; her breath was rotten with alcohol, her face was painted to look like a geisha, but it was smeared, as if someone had trespassed and left their prints all over her.

“You have to leave.” She shook my arm again. “Don’t come back.”

“But we have to leave!” I cried at her. “Father would not have sold us; he would not want us separated like this. We have to go back.”

“Foolish boy, we’ve been sold. You to the okiya to become a fine taikomoshi and I to this place, to become a false geisha on my back. We don’t belong to Father anymore. We haven’t for years!” She spat upon the ground. “Now go back before someone discovers you missing and you are punished. Don’t look for me again.”

“But..”

“Be gone!” She slapped me hard across the face; her breast shook with the force of it. “Be gone! Save yourself.” She shoved me until I slipped on my geta, the wooden sandals worn by many of the traditionalists. I fell backwards and landed on my arm wrong, and pain ran up to my shoulder, burning.

I gave a small cry. Maiko lunged forward and yanked me off the ground and shoved me forward. I lost one of my geta in our scuffle; she pushed me forward again and I ran, my hurt arm held tight to my body by the other one. I ran until I could run no further with my lopsided gait and aching arm. I stumbled my way back to the okiya, but the door was locked. It was never locked, unless everyone was at home or to keep people out. I placed my hand upon the door, frozen about what to do. If I knocked, they would know I had left without permission. If I did not knock, they would know I had left without permission in the morning, when I was gone.

I was fortunate not to have made either decision, the door opened suddenly by the Old Woman. Chinatsu had told her I had run away and that they had better lock the door against one as ungrateful as I was. I had been caught coming back from an attempt to runaway, I had broken my arm that required an expensive Doctor’s visit and lost a shoe. The Old Woman struck me many times across my legs in punishment after the Doctor had set my arm. I cried and I cried that night. My arm was swollen, my legs were swollen and my eyes were swollen from my tears. I was forbidden by the Mistress and the Master to go to classes to be a taikomochi, I was kept only as a servant, doomed to work off my ever increasing debts to the okiya.

Forced to work off my debt, I did everything for the okiya as soon as the next morning; my arm was not given the time off to heal. I had to work with it or I was not fed. The pain drove me to be better, do better and be as quiet as I could. Sugar was still learning to be a geisha and Chinatsu kept her far from me. Where we had once socialized as servants, gossiping, sharing our complaints, there was nothing. She was to become Chinatsu’s apprentice and therefore had to remain in her good graces or suffer a fate just as bad, or worse, as mine. I did not wish my new life on Sugar, helping her in the only way I knew how: by keeping silent.

Day after day passed, one after the other, it was all a blur. I grew and my robes were replaced begrudgingly as I could not be seen to offend the okiya outside of their doors. I saw no one, I spoke to no one, I was no one… until one day, I was forced to go assist the mechanic employed by the okiya. The Old Woman pushed me to the back alley, where the entrance to his workshop and the exit to the garage was, admonishing me to keep my kimono clean.

The Mechanic took pity on me and provided me with an apron that was over large, to keep my clothes as grease free as possible. From him I learned how to take care of the car and fix other things with small motors. When random devices would break in the okiya, the Old Woman would give them to him carelessly and he would study them, this way and that, before taking them apart. Seeing my interest one day, as I was cleaning his workspace, he showed me the broken electric fan that had belonged to the Master.

“He will get a new one, but I will fix this one and it will go to one of the other maids or servants. That is why the Old Woman gives them to me. One man’s trash is another man or woman’s treasure.” He pinched my cheek as he said this. “Come, I will show you how it works, and perhaps you can fix it.”

I did not think I would be able to handle something so foreign and delicate, so I tried to decline.

“Nonsense, you have very lovely hands, delicate enough for even a geisha, but most importantly, delicate enough for this type of fine work. You will see. Come now, where is the curious nature of my little cat? Hmm?”

The Mechanic thought himself humourous and his nickname “Cat” was something only we shared together. I spent the next few years under his tutelage and learned more and more about machines than I had ever thought possible. One day, he brought me a treat: a ragged old book that contained gibberish. I thought he had lost his mind, even as I thanked him for it. He could see my confusion, for he gave me an answer filled with laughter, to my unasked question.

“It is the language of computers. I never learned to speak their language or fix them, but you are younger than I, and the children these days seem to pick up things we old ones can not. Study it, perhaps you will understand it.”

I thanked him properly and tucked it away in the corner of his workshop. To show my appreciation, every day I pulled it out and learned something from it. I had discovered that learning was important and if I did not learn anything, I would always be nothing. Soon, I had finished that book and could write out the most basic codes with understanding. The Mechanic only smiled and brought me a book more advanced. I learned that one too. Maybe when my time at the okiya ended, I could become a mechanic elsewhere. My thoughts always turned towards leaving. I could not help it. I did not think that was foolish, but perhaps I’d be better prepared next time, which is smart.

I was sent on a mysterious errand one day, by the Mechanic. I was told that I was needed to help fix a television, and that he couldn’t do it because of all the work he had that day. Sometimes, the okiya would lend him out to others for work or they would bring their items to him. Today, he had several items in need of repair. I thought my time would be better spent helping him, but he shook his head.

“No, you must help this person. It would be a great honor.”

I could not argue with my superior, so I did as I was bid. He handed me my apron, toolbox and the address. I made my way through the crowded winding streets and alleys, peeking as I dared at the beautiful geisha’s and well dressed men as they walked down the streets. The sun was shining, and the sky was a beautiful sea blue, clear; if I turned upside down, surely I could swim away. I tripped on my feet over a crack on the sidewalk and recovered myself to the amused titters of the ladies passing me by. I put my head down and continued to the address I held crumpled in my hand until I was standing outside the doorway to a set of narrow stairs that led to several apartments.

Cautiously, I went up the stairs and knocked on the apartment number’s door that had been written on my slip of paper and was greeted by a gentle maid. She welcomed me in, and I learned that it was the apartment of Taikomochi Hideaki. I only knew him from his reputation and I eventually learned that as one of the most successful taikomochi in the district; he was able to pay for his one room apartment from his earnings, no longer answerable to one okiya. My eyes widened as I saw him, but I bowed as quickly as I could.

“There is a problem with my television set,” Hideaki said, without preamble. His voice was quiet and soothing. I had to strain to hear it; I’m afraid I leaned like a reed to hear the sound. He laughed, and it was a gentle huffing sound he hid behind his hand. “I apologize, I try to keep my voice healthy by not straining it, I do enough with it in the evenings from singing and telling stories.” He cleared his throat, “I will try to speak up just a bit.”

I made sharp little negative movements with my hands, “Whatever you choose to do for your comfort, Hideaki-san, do not strain for my unworthy self.”

“Come,” he said. “I will show you where the problematic device is, and hopefully it is salvageable.”

I gave a small smile. “Most things usually are Hideaki-san. It is usually us who give up on them too soon.”

Hideaki made a small humming sound; I could not be sure if he agreed or disagreed with my statement, but I pressed my lips together, hoping nothing else foolish or offensive came crawling out. He showed me to the small television set that was giving him trouble. I set myself to the task of familiarizing myself with the device and laying out my toolset to begin work on it. Within an hour, I had it back together again; it was only faulty wiring. I soldered the mischievous bits back that had come loose, and noticed that the cord was becoming frayed where it was attached to the back of the television. It seemed as if Hideaki or someone else was prone to pulling the television to the end of it’s cord quite often. I mentioned this and asked if he wanted me to repair it before it became a problem. He nodded and I continued; soon the television was playing back the local news. I smiled.

“Amazing!” Hideaki said, he smiled at me.

“It was nothing,” I said, giving a small bow.

“It is odd that a taikomochi apprentice be so skilled in electronics,” Hideaki said to me.

I felt shame as I packed my tools away. “I am sorry, Hideaki-san, I am not a taikomochi apprentice.” My statement was followed by all sorts of tutting and clucking noises. He took out a fan and tapped it on his hands.

“You are too graceful to be only a servant.”

“I did begin training, Hideaki-san, but I only failed.”

Again, Hideaki-san made small restless noises. “What was your failing?”

I did not see that lying would get me anywhere, so I told him how I had tried to runaway and the disaster I had caused myself and that my education was put on hold until the Mistress and the Master deemed me worthy again.” He tapped his lips with his fan.

“Which okiya did you say you came from?”

I gave him our address, and he asked me to come forward. I shuffled forward until I was on my knees in front of him. He took my hands in his and turned them, then my face and turned it this way and that. “Do you want to be a taikomochi?” he asked me softly.

I sat back and thought for a moment. I looked at my hands, to Hideaki’s hands and then his clothes and at the small freedom that he had, the culture, education and training. I nodded, “I would like that, very much, but…” I stopped, there are consequences to everything.

“But?”

“Would I have to stop fixing electronics and cars?”

Hideaki looked surprised. “You fix more than just televisions?”

“Mostly small electronics, automobiles… basically, anything with a motor I can figure out. There are manuals. Computers are rare for me, but they are interesting. I am learning their language.”

Hideaki huffed out another one of his laughs. “It is not unwise for a taikomochi to be educated above their clients. We must be able to speak on many topics, so I do not see why your education in fixing electronics and automobiles can not be continued as well.”

“Continue my education? It will be a long time before that happens Hideaki-san.”

“We shall see. Come back tomorrow. I wish to know what you know about toasters.”

I was surprised at his request. “I’m not sure if the Mistress or Master will allow me the freedom to pay a social call.”

Hideaki merely smiled mysteriously at me. “Then, thank you, for fixing an old man’s vice young one. I do enjoy catching up on the news.”

“You are far from old Hideaki-san, and it was a pleasure, thank you.” I bowed and left the way I had come: quietly and without expectations.

 

###

 

I had lived my life, quietly and without expectations for so long, that when I joined MI6, I was nearly brought down to my knees by the noise and expectations that the job demanded. I looked up at the steady presence by my side and smiled; he too was noisy at his work and had the expectations that we in Q-branch would take care of him, and I, at home, would let him take care of me. It should have been in reverse, but this man, you might think you own him, like a cat, but he in truth, owns you.

The water in his personality allowed him that ease of change, from a look of such aloofness, and not a care in the world, to a face so intense that it would break if you struck it. He looked at me with such intensity sometimes that I feared to touch him, in case he would break and it would be my fault. Like a cat though, he would come at the gentle twitch of my hand, again and again. We looked forward to each other, he and I.

I was stopped in my tracks, as he pulled on my elbow, the snow kicking up at my movement as he bent and stole a kiss from me, his hat knocking my glasses askew. As usual, I responded with a sharp answer, that always delighted him, his eyes brightened and the sun caught them, until they were glistening blue lakes.


	4. The Commander

Hideaki was a capricious, gentle soul and apparently, nothing would do, except to present himself to the door of our okiya. Sugar and I were scrubbing floors that day; our hands were red with the soap and hot water. She was complaining bitterly about having to do this chore still when she needed to practice her shamisen. She kept glaring at me, but I felt nothing but nothing for her; she was an awful shamisen player, no matter how much she practiced. It was better she learned to wash the floors properly. I hid my smile behind my rag as I pretended to wipe my nose.

We both heard the sound of someone knocking at the front door, a set of respectful, quiet raps. One of the front housemaids went to answer, and it must have been someone special, for they were shown to the front parlour. As the housemaid hurried out, to fetch the Old Woman perhaps, Sugar and I looked up at each other and swiftly shuffled down the walkway until we were closer. The Old Woman soon came along behind the housemaid who had gone to fetch her. She was pinching her cheeks, trying to bring color to her old skin. She brushed a hand over her hair, tightening her chignon at the back of her neck. Sugar and I looked at each other once more in silent communication; her eyebrows had crawled to the top of her forehead and wiggled.

“Perhaps it is her lover, come to call!?” She laughed at her own joke and I hid my smile behind my rag again.

We were quite startled to see the housemaid come flying out again, this time she passed us by and hissed out, “It is Hideaki-san!”

At this I drew back on my heels, my rag hanging from my fingers that had suddenly gone cold with dread. It was only Sugar’s wet rag slapping me in the face that I finally turned to look at her.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. It is only Hideaki-san- oh, I should tell Chinatsu? She would want to know about a rival’s visit!” Sugar chewed her thumb. We both knew that Chinatsu was asleep and that if we woke her, it would need to be because the okiya was burning down around her elegant ears. If she missed the visit of one such as renowned as Hideaki and a rival for attention, she would be enormously upset. Sugar did not know what to do.

I encouraged Sugar to let Chinatsu sleep, anything to spend less time with her and be able to learn why Hideaki was visiting. “It will be better to let her sleep and find out exactly why Hideaki-san is here, so that you can report to her exactly; then she won’t have missed out on anything that might be important.”

Sugar nodded. We saw the Old Woman hurry back with the Mistress and the Master following closely behind her.

“What does he want?” the Mistress asked. “If Chinatsu has been causing problems again, I will cancel all of her engagements tonight.”

No one had an answer for her as they slipped inside the room. Sugar and I moved even closer and could now hear every word that came through the sliding doors separating us from the parlour.

Hideaki spoke. “This is a lovely room, I have not been in here before.”

“This small parlour. It has very ill lighting.”

“It is not suitable lighting for one such as you Hideaki-san.”

“It is very subtle and soothing to the eyes. Tell me Mistress and Master, how is your health?”

“We grow older every day, but we try to keep active.”

“These old bones ache for better days. You look well Hideaki-san. We hear you will be dancing this year at the spring program. What an honor.”

“Thank you, I hope I can bring honor to my teachers. I fear I may shame them with my clumsiness.”

The Master and Mistress made noises of disagreement with Hideaki’s statement.

“Would you like some tea?”

“We have only a few decent quality leaves, but there is one that I especially enjoy. We would be honored if you would drink a cup with us.”

“That is most kind, I thank you.”

We heard the sound of the Mistress ordering the housemaid to fetch the tea and to be quick about it. The housemaids footsteps made soft whispers of sounds as she flew out the door to do as she was bid, and it grew silent in the parlour. Sugar and I stopped scrubbing. It had grown too quiet. Someone was going to make the first move, but who? It was to be Hideaki.

“Tell me, do you have a young Taikomochi living with you?”

I felt Sugar’s eyes upon me. I looked up and she pinched me. “You are hiding something.” I shook my head for I had nothing to hide. I had been sent by the Mechanic on a true errand; only he could be made answerable so I held my tongue at Sugar’s pinching fingers.

“We had one, but we had to put a halt on their training,” the Master said.

“Ah. Then he doesn’t live here? Perhaps I have the wrong place.”

“Why do you ask?” The Mistress’s voice rose above.

“He helped me fix my television the other day, and he left before I could pay him his fee.”

“His fee?” The Mistress repeated Hideaki.

There was silence before the Master filled it. “We do not have one who fixes things, other than our mechanic. Are you sure it was not him?”

“My eyes are growing older, perhaps it was him, but this was a very young person. A boy really, with green eyes. A rarity these days, I thought perhaps he must belong to your okiya, such a pretty thing! Ah well, I guess I’ll hold onto his payment until I see him again.”

The Mistress asked the Old Woman to fetch me. Sugar and I moved swiftly to appear busy, rather than eavesdropping.

“What have you done!” The Old Woman hissed at me; she pinched my shoulder to pull me up, smacked me all over to dust me off and pulled me with her to the parlour where everyone was waiting. I stumbled in and went immediately to my knees and bowed. The Mistress bid me rise and I did, slowly. I looked around nervously, waiting for a strike to come. I was terrified for a moment, that Hideaki would bite, like Chinatsu did. I only saw his falsely widened eyes and I narrowed my own at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement.

“Ah! I was mistaken. He is not a taikomochi apprentice, but cat.”

Everyone laughed at his joke, except me.

“Cats do not have good humor,” Hideaki said. “They are very dignified creatures. Come lad, take your fee and present it to your Master.”

I rose from my kneeling position and shuffled over to take the coins held out, my own eyes widened at the weight. I had not felt coin upon my hand in a long while. I smoothed my thumb over the raised edges before turning dutifully to the Master and handing it to him. He quickly pocketed it. Had it gone to the Old Woman, she would have immediately entered it into the accounts. The okiya would never see this bit of coin again as it slid into the Master’s sleeve.

“I wonder, Mistress and Master. Which taikomochi do you plan for this young one to apprentice with?”

The Mistress and Master looked at each other, slightly shocked. “We do not have any…”

“Perfect!” Hideaki clapped his hands together in joy, a delicate happy sound.

“He is currently under punishment.”

“Oh.” Hideaki’s face crumpled under his distress. “That’s a shame. For how long? He has great earning potential.”

The Master’s hand shifted under his sleeve, and I knew he was thinking of the coin that was under his sleeve.

“He has incurred many debts. Do not let his pretty face fool you.”

I felt my face heat up and knew it must be a very red color. I tucked my hands in my sleeves and twisted them against my forearms.

“Has he now,” Hideaki asked softly. “I would be very interested in having him as my Younger Brother.”

“Yes, we are so sorry, but perhaps he is not worth your time.”

“I will be the judge of that. With my assistance, he will pay back his debts for sure by the time he is twenty,” Hideaki responded sharply. I could tell that he did not like being spoken to as if he were the fool. “Show me the accounting and I will decide.”

The Mistress and Master became silent, looking to each other before sending the Old Woman to fetch the account books. I swallowed at the thought that my shame would be on such vulgar display. I was dismissed before their meeting concluded. It was a long while before I was called back in after Hideaki left.

The Mistress and the Master were in a fury. How dare I leave them so uninformed that they were made to look like fools in front of Hideaki. What had I been up to in my free time! They cried that I had taken advantage of their goodwill and hospitality. I tried to explain that whenever the mechanic asked for help, I helped him. I had learned much and that he had sent me to fix Hideaki’s television, that I did not know who it was at the time, that I had just done as I was bid.

Furious for not knowing of what had been going on under her own nose, the Mistress grabbed the cane used for disciplining and shook it at me. I trembled, waiting for the first strike to come, but instead, the Old Woman gently took the cane from the Mistress and said it would be her honor to discipline me. My care was under her watch and thus, my punishment fell to her. I was silent at this. I did not want to be hit but I did not want to be hit more for protesting.

“You will be glad I am to do the beating,” she said to me as she pulled me along. “If I had let the Mistress do it, you might not be left in one piece. She broke this arm of mine and it’s never been the same again. I do not wish that on another stupid, foolish child just for being a stupid, foolish child. You can not break the nature out of someone, but you can teach it a lesson.”

And so my tutelage and apprenticeship under the gentle, but steady hand of Hideaki’s began, not by a solemn ceremony in which we drank from cups honoring one another and binding ourselves to each other, Older Brother, Younger Brother, but with a beating and the settling of debts.

Hideaki had it in his head that I would pay back my debts by the time I was twenty. I don’t know what drove him to feel that I was up for this task; the times were hard and both geisha and taikomochi were struggling. He was a harsh taskmaster, and aside from sending me to classes to learn what I had missed in these past few years, he himself would make me go to his apartment and spend hours practicing. I still had to do my chores at the okiya, but I was yelled less for it, the Old Woman and the Mechanic coming to a decision. I was to learn later that Hideaki made an arrangement with my okiya that I was to continue under the Mechanic’s tutelage. About computers, Hideaki and the Mechanic knew only a little. I could only self-educate on that subject.

One day, I caught Hideaki staring at me in thought as I was practicing a dance in his apartment. He tapped his chin with his fingers, but I kept moving, waiting for whatever critique he would give me. Instead, he called his small maid and had a quiet conversation with her. I came to the conclusion of the dance and Hideaki nodded.

“You are missing the passion in that dance.”

I am afraid that then. I did not know what passion was. I would learn eventually and when I did, I would think back on the false passion that I had flooded my dancing with, and it would seem cheap and vulgar compared to the reality. Hideaki should have told me to leave it out, rather than try to find it. To me, it was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. I didn’t know to look for different shapes.

I was frustrated, and I knew Hideaki was aware of this.

“Here, let me demonstrate.” He moved to stand with me and gracefully began the dance. I became mesmerized at his movements, as he relived the moments of brief passion that they had together before his heart was broken after he was cast aside by his lover. I believed it and I clapped. He bowed. “You will learn, Kioshi.”

I did not know how, but Hideaki was a good teacher, so I believed him when he spoke. The maid came back in, bowed and whispered something to Hideaki. He smiled at me and waved me down the back hallway to his sleeping area. The maid had been busy and had pulled out two sets of kimono. I thought this was to give Hideaki the option to decide what he wanted to wear, but I was wrong. We were to go out that day, he and I. A practice run, he called it.

“We will begin to do these. It will help build up your strength,” Hideaki reasoned with me. I could not argue, only nod.

There was a knock from downstairs, and the maid ran to fetch up the dresser who would help Hideaki to dress; kimono are immensely complicated, and they require assistance. Hideaki made me kneel in the corner, watching him get ready. When they were done, I was instructed to relieve myself before the dresser helped me for it would be ages before the kimono would come off, and it was important to be as comfortable as possible before starting. There would be much laughter later as an apprentice attempted to use a toilet while “working.”

It did not seem as if Hideaki had any destination in mind; he merely wished to walk out amongst the shops and vendors. He greeted everyone he knew with respect, the better to stay on everyone’s good side. A few people thanked me for my help with their cars or toaster ovens. Some geisha took the moment to introduce their apprentices to him or inquire about his upcoming performance in the spring concert. It was spring, and the buds on the trees were open and the cherry blossom season had started, pink, frothy flowers like spun sugar lined the parks and private houses. It was wonderful to view.

Hideaki purchased two shaved ices, cherry flavor, for the two of us to share as we entered the park. It was very crowded that day, and I was nervous I would fall over or off of my shoes. I had entered into a gangly period of my life.

“You will grow out of it, everyone does. We must stretch to reach our potential. Do not be so hard on yourself,” Hideaki would tell me as I struggled to get my limbs to obey what I wanted them to do. I was as tall as he was now, but he would not let me slump. He tapped me with his fan relentlessly to get me to stand tall.

We made our way slowly and as gracefully as I could manage through the crowded park. I mentioned the unusual amount of people in between nibbles. Hideaki nodded his head. “Yes, it is a beautiful day; the horoscopes for today are very positive, and many people will be out trying to find their good fortune.”

More and more people greeted Hideaki, even those we didn’t know would see someone bow to him a little and in passing, they would bow too. I saw a few foreigners in the crowds admiring the blossoms. They were taking photos, one, a blond gentleman with hair cut short, suddenly stepped too close to me as he backed up to get a better view with the camera, and as I moved to give them room, I was still bumped. With my hand full of cherry ice, my feet in the wooden geta and kimono, I did not have a chance. Down I went with a thump. My face burned and chilled in the span of a few seconds, for the shame I felt at losing my grace in public, was shocking to my system. The kimono would be ruined, my hands dirty, the shaved ice spilled upon the ground. More waste. I drew a breath to do what, I don’t know. I could vaguely hear Hideaki making strange tutting sounds, and I knew he was also in some distress. Picking up an apprentice from the ground is an awkward practice!

“I beg your pardon, ma’am!” Large hands grasped me under my arms and gently pulled me off the ground.

“I’m not a girl,” I turned, growling at the person. I knew they were only trying to help me, but to be called a woman on top of my other humiliation, was too much. They froze as they discovered I was not as they thought, a woman. I froze too, as I stared into eyes the color of which I had never seen before. Such a piercing blue. Too much water, you’ll drown! My mind immediately yelled at me. I could hear Hideaki in the background.

“Thank you, thank you. Come Kioshi-san, are you alright?”

This seemed to spur the blue-eyed stranger back into action; he finished assisting me to my feet. Hideaki whisked his handkerchief up and down me, looking for damage to my person and I’m assuming the kimono.

“I am so sorry, Hideaki-san,” I said, turning to him. “I’m sorry.”

“It is nothing, Kioshi-san. A little dirt is good for the soul.”

I risked a glance back up at the stranger, although I must admit, it was more glare than anything.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there. I should have been paying better attention.”

“Yes, you should have.” I don’t know what was wrong with me to respond so sharply.

“Kioshi-san!” Hideaki exclaimed at my very rude response; strangely the stranger merely laughed.

“It’s alright, I am at fault. I tripped him up, ruined his dress…”

At this, I am sure that I actually hissed, but Hideaki laughed! I turned my surprised look to him, my eyes wide. Hideaki tried to hide his laugh behind his rag. I am afraid I lost more of my temper and glared at him as well, which only set him off laughing some more. I turned to the stranger, determined to save both mine and Hideaki’s dignity.

I cleared my throat as I turned back to the stranger to educate his ignorant tongue. “It’s not a dress, it’s a kimono.”

He still looked confused and I found myself shyly on the receiving end of an appreciative stare, whether it was for me or for my borrowed kimono, I know not. His gaze was very direct, assessing. Hideaki’s titters were starting to calm down, and he was distracted by his melting shaved ice.

“I thought only women wore kimono, which is why I, uh… mistook you for one. I can’t believe I made that mistake.” He waved his hand up and down, “Clearly, you aren’t one.”

I could think of nothing further to say to the stranger, except, “Thank you.”

“You’re not even Japanese.” He pointed to his own eyes and then to mine.

At this unwanted, bold observation, I stared at him directly, with what I’m sure was venom in my eyes, because he threw his hands up in a placating gesture. I refused to give him any answer to his statement; I did not need to defend my heritage to a foreigner who couldn’t even be courteous and look before he stepped. I turned my back to him, instead refocusing on Hideaki.

“You are not from the area either, stranger,” Hideaki made a comment, his gaze flicked nervously at my face, which was turned away from the stranger. “I am Hideaki, and allow me to introduce you to my younger brother, Kioshi.”

“I’m British actually. The name’s Bond, James Bond.” This James Bond extended his hand to Hideaki, who gripped it gently and briefly. Handshakes were rare. I looked up and the man extended me the same courtesy. Curious as always, I shook the foreigner’s hand. It was broad, warm and firm, with strange callouses to it. A working man’s hand.

“Tell me, Mr. Bond, are you here on business or pleasure?” Hideaki asked, always asking, probing trying to find out little tidbits of information about his clients and guests.

“It’s Commander Bond actually. I’m only here on a short-term exchange visit with the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense force.”

“Impressive, Commander, but you have come to see the cherry blossoms before you leave haven’t you?” Hideaki smiled gently at the Commander. I was not sure what the wily taikomochi was angling for, but I knew it was best if I kept my mouth shut again and paid attention. I smiled politely up at the Commander.

“Er, yes. I had some shore leave, and they’ve let me explore a bit.” The Commander looked a little unsure.

“Excellent! Well, we can not have an honored guest of our country left to wander aimlessly, with no guide. Kioshi-san and I were out for a walk, so perhaps we can escort you through the park?”

“If nothing more than to keep you from running over anymore innocent bystanders.” I still do not know why I could not say anything pleasant to this man, but the Commander seemed to enjoy it. His smile unfolded into a thousand suns, and I was struck mute by its burning intensity. He threw back his head and laughed, missing Hideaki as he rapped me on my shoulder sharply. I stepped away and bowed my head.

“That would be a generous offer I could not refuse,” the Commander said.

“Allow me.” Hideaki handed me his melting shaved ice and took the Commander’s arm. I followed behind, nibbling on the shaved ice until I could throw it away. Hideaki entertained the Commander with some history, gossip and local information. The Commander seemed to never forget me after knocking me down; he would look back over his shoulder to check that I was still there.

“You have quite a shadow, Hideaki-san,” the Commander said.

“I am most fortunate to have one such as him as my shadow.” Hideaki smiled up at him. “Come, we are but halfway to the end of the park, at which time I am afraid that is where we must leave you Commander.”

“Then I shall endeavor to be a gracious guest.” He turned after saying this and offered his other arm to me.

“You will not be able to take pictures,” I said to him quietly, nodding to the camera hanging around his neck.

“I’ve taken enough pictures of the cherry blossoms I think, come on.” He gave his arm a bit of a shake. “I promise I won’t knock you down again.”

I gave him a small smile, for his attempt at humor. “Since you promised.”

“I always keep my word,” he replied quietly, in a voice deep that held the secrets of the sea.

I took his arm and we walked as a trio, slowly through the park, Hideaki keeping up most of the conversation. The Commander would occasionally turn to me, but I only had one or two observations to add to what they were discussing. I remained the quietest of our trio. At the end of our walk, like Hideaki said, we gave our farewells, but not before the Commander asked permission to take a picture with the two of us. Hideaki agreed and the camera was handed to a passing maid who recognized Hideaki. The bowing happened, and the photo happened. The Commander went on his way, and we went ours, a strange meeting that I only thought of almost every day afterwards. I had never seen a man with such striking features as his. Everyone else paled in comparison. No one’s eyes were as blue, no one’s laugh as bold, and no one’s face as handsome as his.

It would be years later that I would come across that bold laugh once more and as you can expect, I was very surprised to hear it!

###

That same, bold laugh rang out just now as something hard and cold, struck me from behind, spattering it’s remnants to the side. I turned, slowly.

“James.”

“Q.” He was holding another snowball, his face filled with happiness.

“Dont. You. Dare.” I had barely finished my warning, when I was hit with the second snowball in the chest. “JAMES! THAT’S IT!” I bent to scoop up my own wad of snow to fight back and was hit by a third on the side of my head. We spent a few pleasurable minutes running around and throwing snowballs at each other, like the children we were never allowed to be. James eventually fell out of his shoes, and I laughed so hard, to see him upended like a turtle as he scrabbled around on his back trying to find his wayward shoe, his legs tucked up so they wouldn’t get in the snow. I moved to assist him when he caught me close to him. We were soon both wet, cold wads of kimono clad humans. He nuzzled his cold nose against my neck and made hmming noises to a nameless tune. I patted his cheek, his stubble catching on my fingertips. I turned my head for another kiss and he obliged.

I returned his shoe, and we resumed our snowy walk.


	5. Secrets

My apprenticeship was in full steam by the time I was nineteen, going on twenty. Hideaki was pleased; he had made a sound investment and knew that I would pay back my debts by the age of twenty. I hadn’t achieved that goal yet, and my twentieth birthday was soon coming up. Part of Hideaki’s success was that while I did entertain at the tea houses and had a few steady patrons, I was more valuable as someone who could fix things. My understanding of computers surpassed anyone he knew. He invested some of his own private funds to supply me with one we shared. His generosity also included picking up scraps and older parts of non working computers; I know not why he did this, but it fascinated him to watch me try to work my magic on them and bring them to life. He finally explained.

“We have moved into a modern era, Kioshi. I never thought I would live to see the day. An investment into an apprentice’s education is never a worthless endeavor. Speaking of worthless endeavors…”

I laughed at his transition to the problem he wanted me to fix.

“Mr. Fujioka, the owner of the Eguchi chaya requires help with his accounting system. He has discovered several discrepancies and does not know who to ask for help. I did not have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t a discrepancy, but foolish business practices that was making his accounts run in fear. I do not think his little ochaya will be able to remain in business very long if he cannot make good managerial choices.”

“Then they should hire you and not me to fix these problems.”

“They should,” Hideaki said, grumbling with immodesty. “I would fix everything wrong with that place in a fortnight. Such sloppy ownership.”

“But,” I sat back on my heels and thought, “He is open every night and he has many guests. How could it be failing?” I did not want to go to the Eguchi chaya, it was known as one of Chinatsu’s and Sugar’s favorite places to go; if we showed up, I did not know what the consequences would be.

“See, because of sloppy ownership, I’m sure that he does not know how to charge his guests properly. He is probably undercharging them, or they’re not spending enough. They probably think it a cheap ochaya to go to, where they do not have to spend money to be entertained. I did tell Mr. Fujioka that we would both attend this evening, me to assess his clientele and business practices and you to see to his accounts.”

“It is not one of our regular ochaya. We will be seen as rivals. That is one of Chinatsu’s haunts. She and Sugar frequent it quite often.”

Hideaki looked off to the side and tapped his hand with his fan. “It is a risk we must take. Mr. Fujioka wants to make a good business and he wants to pay us for our efforts. If we do this for him, he will owe us a favor.” Hideaki looked at me with burning intent. All the pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“How many favors are now owed us from Chinatsu’s favorite ochaya’s?” I asked him point blank, it made no sense to beat around this bush.

“Enough.”

“Enough.” I glanced at my Older Brother with maybe just a little more respect. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it.”

“She took something from me a long time ago, and I will take something from her.” He said it simply, without heat, without anger. It just was.

I shifted uncomfortably. I did not doubt that Hideaki had an ulterior motive for having me as his apprentic; he apparently saw Chinatsu’s ruin in my success. I looked away. Hideaki sensed the change.

“She took away the only thing I loved, Kioshi. For this, I would take everything from her.”

It was not my place to question my Older Brother’s choices, and Chinatsu had played a part in taking away my ability to become a taikomochi.

“So I will take a look at Mr. Fujioka’s system, and you will entertain this evening.”

Hideaki nodded, and we began our preparations for the evening. He wore his favorite kimono with the wave pattern to it; he felt it brought him and us luck. He loved all things from the sea, I think perhaps myself included, the way an Older Brother can love a Younger Brother. When we got to Eguchi chaya, we went our separate ways. Mr. Fujioka was delighted to see us both: Hideaki for the gravitas and elegance he would lend to the evening, and me for helping him with his accounts.

“I do not know what happened,” Mr. Fujioka said as he led me down the hall to his office in the back. “Normally, my partner handles all, and the bills are paid, I never have to do anything, but he is out sick this week, and I needed to pay some of our bills.”

“You are familiar with your accounting software, yes?” I asked; it was best to eliminate human error.

Mr. Fujioka noddd., “Oh yes, yes I am, enough to pay a bill, but I went to look at the numbers and they don’t make sense. We have money coming in and out, but it doesn’t add all up, and as I entered in the invoices and make payments, there were other accounts marked within our system drawing from what I was entering and I didn’t understand it all. I stopped. I was afraid that there is a glitch with the software or I have set it up wrong or I was entering the wrong numbers!”

I gave a small sigh and asked for a few of his invoices to compare. He provided me with access to the computer his business partner used, the notebook full of instructions on how to use the software, the passwords, and said he would send one of the maids to bring me some refreshment soon. I nodded, acknowledging him, and proceeded to get to work. It was dreadfully dull, old people and technology. Mr. Fujioka’s business partner was younger and newer to the ochaya business, and I was pretty sure it was nothing but human error… until I really got further into everything.

Right as I was elbow deep into the mystery of where Mr. Fujioka’s money was going, the housemaid came knocking on the door.

“Hideaki-san wishes for you to join him now,” she said and gave a little bow.

“I am not finished,” I told her.

“Hideaki-san said apologies Kioshi-san. He said you would not like being interrupted, but it is for a fan dance and a special guest.” The maid bowed gain.

She was only doing her job, and I did not want to cause trouble. I closed up what I had been working on and left the office as Mr. Fujioka had showed it to me. The maid hurried down the hall, leading me back to the party. Hideaki was in the hallway, waiting for me, which I thought was strange. He spent a few moments straightening my collar, running his fingers through my as always unruly hair and gave me my fan. I was surprised to see it, since I did not bring it to begin with as I was not expected to entertain this night!

“Hideaki-san, what is this?”

He answered me quick as he finished his adjustments to my kimono. “You will want to see these guests. It is a party for the businessmen and secretaries of Universal Exports.”

That made little sense, but I followed Hideaki back into the room and made my greetings. Chinatsu was there glaring, along with Sugar. At my entry, the noise grew at the exclamations and appreciation for the newcomer. I became silent as I took in the noisy party. I did not see who it was Hideaki thought I would recognize; it was foreigner upon foreigner with a few of my countrymen and women in between. Hideaki was speaking, he said that we would perform a special dance for them, one only saved for extra special guests. The crowd cheered! Hideaki whispered in my ear. We would be performing one of the more complicated fan dances I had learned. I had never performed it outside of Hideaki’s apartment. Little did I know, it was a trick.

“Oh no!” Hideaki exclaimed. He held up his fan, the one he had rapped me with on many occasion. It was broken. His face fell, and our audience made shocked noises. One of the other geishas at the party offered hers, but he declined. “It was weighted special! Without it so, I will dance unbalanced.” He looked so sad. Everyone sympathized with him, even me, until he got that look in his eyes that I had seen a thousand times, I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew his tricks by now. “I know! I will accompany you Kioshi-san, and you will dance for us!”

I am sure my mouth dropped out of its tight, disapproving line for a brief moment as I was left at the front of the room and Hideaki moved to take out his shamisen and prepare to play. This was the dance Hideaki had critiqued that I lacked the passion for. I readied myself and nervously took my position at the front of the room and waited for Hideaki to begin playing. It was at that moment of quiet centering that I looked up and saw one man leaning with his elbow on the table, the fine material of his tuxedo pulled tight across a firm bicep; my eyes traced up to his shoulder and then to his face, where I saw a small smile and a pair of very familiar ice blue eyes, eyes I had dreamed about since I had last met him: the Commander. I drew a breath, what for, I didn't know, but Hideaki chose that moment to start playing his shamisen, and I moved. Floating, floating within those eyes of blue, I don’t know how I finished the dance; all I knew was that I was performing it for him and him only. All too soon, it was over, and I was bowing.

I needed to return to my work in Mr. Fujioka’s office, but Hideaki insisted I stay for a few moments, to be polite. The foreign guests had been surprised to learn and see a taikomochi attend the party and were delighted to see his apprentice. I was the point of many of the guests’ focus; they had many questions, and I gave quiet answers. Hideaki instead, took the lead and answered most of them for me. There was space near the one I had dreamed of, and I made my way as gracefully and naturally around the table. I could feel Chinatsu’s eyes burning into me,and Sugar’s were second to her. I hoped to escape soon, but not before I took this one chance.

I knelt next to the Commander. He shifted, I frowned. He should not have moved for me. I double checked myself, but there had been plenty of room. I noticed him looking down at me, but he nor I had spoken to each other yet. Hideaki’s voice was filling the air around us, telling a story. That was when I noticed the Commander was holding an empty teacup in his hand. I thought it odd for the lateness of the party; he was drinking tea and nothing stronger. I decided to do what I was trained for and reached for the small teapot. I held my sleeve out of the way and started to pour the tea. The Commander seemed fixated on my hand as I poured; I wondered what he saw, so I held steady and still as I could for as long as I could. It was then that I noticed Hideaki had grown silent and Chinatsu’s tinkling laughter filled the air. The teapot was empty. It had been empty for awhile now, if the Commander’s cup was any indication. I felt the heat of a blush creep up my neck. I set the teapot down as gracefully as I could manage, muttering a small apology to the Commander as I pulled my hands back into my lap.

“Have you not trained your apprentice in the delicate art of determining when a teapot is empty Hideaki-san? Such a lack. Why, Sugar here can tell whether or not it is empty by the curl of steam rising from its slender… stem.”

The gentlemen at the table laughed. I shifted, dipping my chin and tightening the line of my mouth. I was determined not to sink to her level.

“You can see my old friend, Commander. While Sugar would have given up at the lack of steam, Kioshi-san would have found the last drop for you.”

The Commander laughed, and it was just as I remembered. The focus of the table moved away from us, and I was left in silent thought, until the Commander leaned towards me, his chin hovered over my shoulder and he spoke in my ear. His breath brushed across my neck as he whispered, “So little shadow, we meet again.”

I turned, curving away from him, yet into him at the same time; our eyes met briefly before I lowered them once more. “Yes.” I stared at the sleeve of his tuxed;, the expensive, well fitted material caught my eye.

“And is your tongue still as sharp as I remember it to be?”

“I do not think I left you with any memories of my tongue, Commander.” My face flushed, and I could not believe that I had dared to say something so bold to this man. He huffed a breath of laughter across my neck, as if what I said had amused him greatly, and then he laughed again, throwing his head back. I was caught, mesmerized at the freedom with which he laughed. I was elbowed on my other side, by the other guest, who had one too many glasses of beer, wine, and sake in his system. I counted the empty cups in front of him. Goodness. He demanded to know what was so funny, so I smiled gently and demurred, a small gesture with my hand. He became insistent and pulled me off balance by the sleeve of my kimono. I blew a breath through my nose at such handling and caught myself on the floor before I landed on the foolish man.

“What do you speak of? Tell me. Share the joke. I want to laugh too!” He sloshed his cup, and its contents landed on me. I heard the Commander bark out a “Hey!”

“We spoke of sharp things,” I said, leaning away, “and the lack of them, like wit. Excuse me, Mr. Fujioka needs me.” I extricated myself from the guest’s grip and rose. It was partially true of an excuse; Mr. Fujioka was in the doorway, looking to me, and I took that as a silent order to get back to the business at hand.

I made my way softly through the doorway, past Mr. Fujioka who only nodded and complimented me on my dance as I passed him by. I hurried back to the office to pick up where I had left off. I did not notice someone following m, until my hand was grabbed. I came to a halt, staring forward. I was not so much grabbed as a warm, broad, and slightly calloused hand slipped itself into mine. I moved my fingers ever so slightly, brushing across the palm. I recognized this hand. I would know it above all others. A brief look over my shoulder confirmed what I suspected.

“You should let go, Commander. I need that hand.” Where on earth my intellect departed to when I spoke to him, I knew not. I was saddened that all I could do was give him cheap conversation.

He moved, but not to let go of my hand, merely situate himself along my back. I shuddered as his head dipped down and he spoke again, in his low voice near my ear, his breath a caress against my virginal flesh. A taikomochi doesn’t have the virginity to lose like a geisha might, or at least, it is not seen that way, but we are all virgins to the first touch of our desires.

“And what does a shadow need hands for?”

“To work.”

His fingers brushed the tender skin of the inside of my wrist and dragged along the palm of my hand to the tips of my fingers. “I can imagine another line of work these hands might be used for.”

I pressed my lips into a disapproving line, the flush of first desire fading. I pulled my hand out of his, stepped away and turned to him. He was but a shadow in the dark hallway. “THAT is not what we are. Geisha and taikomochi are artists, NOT water traders. I can direct you to those that entertain in that area of business.”

“I have offended you,” He said plainly.

“You have mistaken me.”

“Have I?” He looked at me openly and curiously, questioning. “I thought perhaps there was mutual interest, my apologies.”

I remained silent. Oh God. He was interested. I blew a breath out. “We do not function that way, no matter our interest. It is not free.”

“Ah, I see.”

I’m sure he didn’t, but I nodded and turned away.

“How much.”

I froze and turned back to him. “I… I…” We could be bought for private dances, exhibitions, but I knew one word from me and it would become twisted.

At my distress, he changed course. “Where are you going?”

I inhaled, thankful for the reprieve of an uncomfortable situation. “I’m going to the back office.”

“Might I accompany you?”

It was a strange request, one I could not honor fully. “You may accompany me to the office, but you may not come inside.”

He looked at me curiously. “What are will you be doing in there? I thought Mr. Fujioka was the owner.”

“I am checking some of his programs as a favor.”

“His programs? I’d like to see that.”

“I’m afraid, Commander Bond, that is impossible. These are private business matters that are not meant for foreign guests, much less any guest and others beyond Mr. Fujioka and his business partner, excuse me.” I turned away, my heart in my feet, which were now lead.

“Something is wrong with the accounts, isn’t there. Money disappearing and coming in when it shouldn’t.”

He caught my attention. “What?”

“Let me help.”

“You’re familiar with these accounting programs?”

“No, but what I am familiar with is investigation, something I was sent here to do. Money and British secrets are being transferred through this unassuming little ochaya. We have a crooked Station Head, and I need to catch them. If you allow me to watch you work, my business will be completed quicker, and I will be sent away faster where I do not offend you.”

My shoulders drooped at his revelation and at the idea of him leaving again. “I did not realize Universal Exports was involved with international espionage. Come along, it really won’t hurt anything if you are wrong, and if you are right, then Mr. Fujioka is either a co-conspirator, or as Hideaki-san suggests, an idiot businessman.”

The Commander smiled and followed me the rest of the way. I shut the door to the office; it would be a long night. We discovered that Mr. Fujioka was an idiot. He had let a serpent into his nest, and it was eating his eggs. I was able to find communications between the Station Head the Commander spoke of and Mr. Fujioka’s business partner. I let out a small gasp when I found other accounts; some of them listed Chinatsu as the recipient of some of the money and correspondence asking for her to send Sugar on “errands” for the ochaya. Poor Sugar. I did not know if she was aware of what she was doing, probably not as she had no head for numbers and or observations.

“They’re friends of yours?” The Commander asked me softly as all was revealed.

I shook my head. “We are not friends as you might call one of yours. We never have been. We only share the same okiya. When I am not with Hideaki, that is where I sleep.” I turned to him after my answer, and his gaze drifted down my face.

“Is it.”

“Yes, and you are not allowed to visit,” I told him sternly. He hid a smile behind his hand, that working man’s hand trying to brush his smile away.

“Oh, but I would so enjoy paying you a visit, calling on your parents, sitting in your parlour, and holding your hand.”

I turned all shades of red I am sure. I spoke with that sudden sharpness I had suddenly developed. “My parents are gone, and you would have to pay for the privilege to hold my hand.” Sometimes to my ears I sounded like Maiko.

The Commander rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry about your parents, and you’ve done good work today. Save your work on this disk, and I’ll take it to my bosses. I’ll take care of this for you, believe me,.” He looked me up and down. “You’re worth your weight in gold, even for just a touch of your hand.”

I swiped the disk from his fingers and roughly shoved it into the drive to start the download and copy of the files. I grumbled under my breath, but I know he heard: he laughed. He had already held my hand for free, and he knew it. I handed him the disk and left to find Hideaki, who intercepted us in the hallway.

“Ah, Kioshi-san, there you are. Commander, did you get lost?”

“The Commander was looking for the toilet. I was escorting him. Hideaki, I am unwell, could we go now?” I needed to get away from the party, from my longing and from the dark secrets I had found in the computer. I glanced up at the Commander, and he was only smiling charmingly down at me and Hideaki.

Hideaki looked at me curiously, but he nodded his head. “Of course. You did have a long day. I am not quite so young, and I know I could use more rest. I forget what it is to be young. Commander, it was lovely to see you again.” Hideaki withdrew a white card from his obi; many taikomoshi and geisha carried calling cards or business cards, you might say, with them for this purpose with the hope that a guest or patron of the ochaya would remember them and call them for entertainment purposes. “You can reach us at that number if you require anything we can provide you with comfortably.”

The Commander took the card and tucked it away in an inner pocket. “Thank you Hideaki-san. Kioshi-san, it has been a pleasure.” He gave a little bow to the both of us and went to join his party. Hideaki watched him leave; it was an admittedly nice view.

“He has lovely rhythm,” Hideaki said quietly. “He would make a lovely dancer.”

I made a tsking sound with my tongue and turned to the exit of the ochaya where we would find our shoes and wraps against the evening's chill. The housemaid helped us and we exited while I thought about the Commander’s walk.

“He interests you as you interest him,” Hideaki said quietly on the dark streets. We had walked half a block. I looked down at him with some surprise, but he only repeated himself. “He interests you, as you interest him.”

###

We still held interest in each other. As soon as we got back to our hotel room, the first thing I heard was...

“Will you dance for me?”

I shook my head. “A wet kimono is a heavy kimono and a cold Quartermaster is a very clumsy Quartermaster.”

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that won’t we?” James said. He approached me slowly, a wave sliding up the beach, waiting to surprise its victim. I watched him; he changed directions, and still I watched him. It is well known the sea can lure people to their deaths, and it is well known that I will let this man lure me into his depths. I shivered with both the cold and the anticipation. We were side by side now, shoulder to shoulder, him facing me. He brought a hand up to my jaw and tipped my head back slightly. My eyes met his and they held. His hand drew down my throat, to the V of the front of my kimono, and still I held his eyes. His hand dropped lower and traced over the front of my obi, the large sash that held the robe closed. My own eyes crinkled with laughter as he leaned in and seductively whispered, “Where is the end of this damn thing?!”

I laughed; the dresser that had helped us this morning had asked me how I wanted it tied, and I asked him to make a hidden knot and place it in the back. One mustn’t make things easy for James. While I laughed, he took to the challenge like a seabird trying to get to the meat of the crab. I was tugged this way and that way and then… “OOOF!” He had sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me over his lap where I wiggled.

“Stop that,” he said, swatting my kimono clad bottom. I laughed even more for he was never boring. “Aha!” He shouted in triumph; he had found the end of the knot of the obi, and I could feel him tugging and tugging. I laughed some more once he had it undone.

“It’s a good thing we’ve moved past awkward first encounters,” I said as he pushed me up and then pulled the obi, spinning me like a top. By the time the length was pulled all the way, I was dizzy and warm.

“Mmm,” he said, approaching me and pushing his hands inside my kimono; they were cold and I shivered. “I remember our first encounter. Do you?”

I looked into his eyes. “I remember you from the beginning. I remember every encounter, you bloody big ship.” I tipped my head to the side. “To which do you refer.”

“Cheeky, Quartermaster,” he said, his eyes twinkling down at me.

“Should I get the dresser to help us?”

“I didn’t need a dresser before,” James said as he pushed the large outer robe off of my shoulders. It fell with a sliver and a soft whispering sound.

“No, you did not.” I remembered, and it came back in a heartbeat, our first encounter.


	6. Cunning Old Badgers

It had been set up between Hideaki and James, thought at the time he was still only known as the Commander to me: a private dance, I had been told by Hideaki, with his speaking glance.

“Congratulations Kioshi. You have officially paid back your debts to your okiya and to myself by the time you turned twenty.”

I had in fact just turned twenty that day. “A private dance? For the Commander? Hideaki… an outsider?”

“Yes, did you want it to be someone you knew? Perhaps I should have considered other offers. There were quite a few. Some who didn’t have quite so nice of a rhythm to their walk as the Commander. He did have a nice swing to his hips”

I laughed. I remembered the little comment Hideaki had said as we watched the Commander walk away. “Hideaki!”

“Well, if you don’t want the Commander, I can return your fee to him and ask Mr. Fujioka if he is still interested. You will not repay your debts with that, he will see it as an ill return, and he won’t pay top dollar for a private dance, not anymore.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. I could not say no; my heart and my mouth would not let me, and Hideaki knew this. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just laughed as always.

“Keep your claws in this night, my little Cat, until you know the Commander better. I doubt he will appreciate them as much as you would like to tear into one of us.”

I flushed at Hideaki’s comments, and my mind immediately went to the use of hands and nails upon bare flesh. Hideaki must have known where my mind had gone, for he tutted and said I was too old for my mind to be constantly in the gutter and that I must clean it before I go before the Commander. He ordered I take a nap and a bath before I dressed this evening for my private performance.

I was sent to the Commander’s hotel with Hideaki’s dresser. I knew what was coming. I was to give the most private dance a taikomoshi could give. I looked at my fingers, folded calmly against my lap. They looked calm; I on the other hand was anything but. I drew a breath and let it back out, trying to soothe my nerves. Hideaki’s dresser just chewed on a piece of gum, staring out the window as we traveled through the streets. I looked around at the pedestrians on the street before the hotel and within the hotel. Every time someone looked at me, I felt a suspicion that they knew why and what I was doing at that hotel.

The dresser led the way to the front desk and spoke quietly to the staff. The Commander had arranged for two hotel rooms: one for the dresser and my comfort, the second for his own. There was a connecting door. The dresser did some finishing touch ups to my ensemble before he gestured to the door. I drew my breath again, approached, and knocked.

“Come in.” The Commander spoke and at his voice, I was immediately soothed, and my expectations leapt in my chest, like the dolphins on the wake of the bow of a boat. I turned the knob and quietly entered his room. He was wearing a soft cotton kimono with another layer under it. I looked at him with some confusion, for he answered my unspoken question. “Hideaki suggested it. Said that you would be familiar with this style of dress and that my suits would not be appropriate.”

I smiled. “Hideaki-san is an interfering old badger.” That surprised a laugh out of the Commander, and I saw some of the stiffness leave his body.

We both stood there, and I realized that we were both novices at this. He did not know what to expect from this private dance, but I could see the hope, and I did not know what to expect from this dance either, but he could see the hope in my eyes. He held a hand out, and I walked over to take it. I felt quiet and small standing there, but soon we were talking and I did not seem quite so small and he was not so intimidating. Soon I heard...

“Will you dance for me?”

I nodded my head.

The Commander found the knot at the back of my obi and began to unknot it. He gathered the length in his hands, and I instructed him to create loops. He hefted the weight. “Such a heavy thing for one such as you. You must be stronger than a shadow.” He grinned, and I did not get offended. The items we wear are heavy and cumbersome; strength is required and learned.

He unwrapped me first from my kimono. I should have helped him first, followed by the dresser helping me. It should not be this way, but the Commander would only have it his way, and no one was to touch me this night except him. I glowed at that statement, but I kept it hidden as best I could. He unwrapped me as if I were a gift, a special gift meant only for him. It was slow and tortuous, the Commander moved around me, circling, circling, slowly. He was clumsy and unfamiliar with the kimono, but he was very curious, stopping here and there to observe and investigate.

There were his rare smiles and odd times of laughter. I was hopelessly charmed when I should have been the one to be charming. James, as he told me to call him, placed a kiss on my ear or neck as he paused on his journey around me, but he did not stay still. His hands, his mouth, they were like butterflies, and I could not predict where and when one would land! The anticipation for me was building. It was like a dance, Hideaki did not lie, and it was one of the most erotic dances I had participated in (though, I dare say it would have been a shock had a group of taikomochi suddenly decided to disrobe in front of a crowd and dance, but I digress).

I had never seen a foreigner dance. He performed a circle dance, an erotic circle dance as bit by bit I was revealed. My breath caught, and I could swear I heard drums as he worked around me, the beating of my heart, I soon realized. It was pounding in my chest, so hard and fast. We were creating our own rhythm. I wanted to study it, to learn to play it again when he was gone, for this would be a memory only, a good memory.

I was not still, in case you were wondering if I was just standing there letting this beautiful man do all the work. I kept it light, daring, partially a game, for when James came around to do something to the front of me, or the side, I too would make an effort to unwrap him from his simpler kimono. He would try to keep himself away from my hands, but all too soon all that was left was the nearly see through delicate linen undergarments both he and I wore. I was surprised to see him wearing a set.

“Hideaki,” I said, shaking my head.

“That cunning old badger,” James agreed, laughing.

I could have just been in nothing but my skin and he as well, the linen more revealing than concealing. He was beautifully formed. I could see the shadows, the golden skin, still a mystery to me. He stopped at this point and stepped back, looking, looking, and looking. I became unbearably shy and self-conscious in this moment. He did not like what he saw! I worried my lip and moved my arms as I tried to cover what I knew he could see.

“No no,” he said, reaching for me.

His hands brushed up and down my arms, the callouses on his hands catching at my skin and at the fine linen, dragging the material. His hands were on my neck, my jaw, tilting my face up, his hands in my hair. I shuddered, though I knew not why. Was I scared? His hands tightened incrementally in my hair at my movement. He looked at me with such hunger; it burned in his eyes, like fairy lights on the sea, and I was drawn to them. I wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t actually try to take a bite out me. My chin went up at the thought. I would not be such easy prey to this man who bought me.

As my eyes narrowed, his became bluer, if that were possible. They changed from the color of the shallows where the birds feasted on the crab to the deep blue where the mysterious creatures of the depth lurked, waiting to lure the sailors to their deaths. Perhaps I would die tonight. Gently, he pressed his lips against mine, and with his siren’s song, he did lure me to his bed.

He would be taking something from me, but that night, I felt rather like he was giving something to me, over and over and over again. In the morning, I was a changed man, held snug within his arms.

###

Tonight was our night again, no longer the fresh blooms that youth once held, him a little older, but hardly more mature; I could tell by the tickling fingers and unholy glee he took in making me laugh while he pressed his cold nose in random places, always the surprise, always the unexpected, this one. I held his face between my hands, pressed my lips against his and ran my chin over his stubble.

Me, I’m older and wiser, James’s efforts at putting away Mr. Fujioka’s business partner, Chinatsu, Sugar, and the MI6 Station Head led to MI6 recognizing in me more than the potential to be a great taikomochi. My world got larger, and I left that small island for another absurdly small island. I would dance for James tonight, even while I gave him a hard time about it, pleading that I had forgotten, but one doesn’t forget things like that. I had purchased a fan in the district soon after we arrived. I would surprise him with that private dance, the one I did for him the first time he ever saw me perform. I would not be as splendidly dressed as I once was, my kimono were put away or given back to the okiya, and the one I wore today was not as heavily decorated as the ones in my youth, but it was a chance to put on the old and then shed it, like a cold, wet, heavy skin, followed by taking off at full speed across the room to the ensuite with its on demand hot water while not helping my partner shed his own heavy wet robes, daring a double-oh to catch me and shrieking when he finally did, with those cold, strong fingers.

I would live those years again and again to come back to this moment: bare skin, cold toes, hot water and a satisfied lover.


End file.
